Luke's Encounter
by joshdapimp0587
Summary: Luke Corman has strange encounters after his daughter's mysterious death. Chapter Two up! Much more to come! Please review... :)
1. Memories

Chapter One: Memories  
  
The second hand ticked by slowly. Across the hall, a man watched through the doorway as time passed. Time. It seemed so false. A make believe idea created for the mere purpose of making people late. Late to birthday parties; late to weddings. Late to other activities almost as artificial as time. On this evening however, the dark haired man wasn't late for such an unreal occasion. It was a once in a lifetime event. He hoped.  
  
His first instinct that reality had left him with his thoughts was that he could now hear the second hand of the clock moving. Each tick sharpened his sense of hearing. It seemed louder. And louder still. The noise soon became a nuisance as his thoughts came together.  
  
How had it happened? What started it all? His little girl. How was it possible that she had been harmed? He had tried so hard to protect her. Almost too much. Maybe it was bound to happen after she lived such a sheltered life. Was it meant to be?  
  
"Mr. Corman?" asked a small delicate woman. The man looked up and faced the rosy cheeked nurse. Her brunette curls licked her red lipstick from her lips. Her green eyes pierced the man's soul, and he turned away, feeling guilt about his feelings. He put his head down revealing the deep black roots of his scalp, and slowly nodded.  
  
"Mr. Corman, your daughter..." the nurse paused, her lovely, soothing voice cracking. The man kept his face downcast, fearing the news. The nurse cleared her throat softly and continued, "Your daughter has suffered a severe blow to the head. Her-" the nurse paused again as she noticed the man grunting and crying quietly. "Mr. Corman, I know it's hard, but you need to focus now on what you want to do with the time you have left."  
  
Time. The word echoed in his mind. Time would cease to exist as he knew it. It was the manmade object that distanced him from his daughter. The manmade thing that would number her last days, and end her life forever. Luke Corman hated time.  
  
The nurse continued, wringing her hands and pulling on her white dress. "Now, Mr. Corman your daughter can't feel much. She's in no pain. You should talk to her, because if you talk to her..." her voice trailed off. Luke struggled to catch up, but his mind wouldn't let him. Luke looked away again and closed his dark black eyes. Leaning back in the chair, Luke felt at home. Calm. Almost... asleep.  
  
...  
  
Luke sprang up from the bed, drenched in sweat. Sitting up, he clicked on the lamp on the nightstand. Leaning against the wooden headboard, Luke, breathing deeply and quickly, lifted his hands, covering his eyes with his scratchy, clammy palms.  
  
Removing the sheets from his waist, Luke placed his feet on the ground with a soft thud. Making his way across the cold tile floor of his bedroom with more thudding, Luke headed for the bathroom. Once inside, Luke ran the cool water of the sink, opened the mirrored medicine cabinet, and skimmed the shelves with his eyes for aspirin. After reaching and gripping a small bottle of Bayer, Luke shut the door of the cabinet.  
  
Luke swallowed two tablets, and closed his eyes. He concentrated on the trickle of cool water flowing from the faucet. Its soothing drip. He breathed deeply, smelling the air. As he exhaled, Luke splashed a handful of water on his rough unshaved face. With his eyes closed, he grabbed a nearby hand towel and dried himself off.  
  
The digital clock read 3:07. Luke knew he wouldn't be able to return to his sleep. The dreams were back. Maybe he would go see the doctor again. But surely not at three in the morning. Luke turned the knob, shutting off the water, and pulled down his boxers to prepare for a hot shower.  
  
Adjusting the dials in the shower, Luke awaited the mirror's fogging on the closed toilet seat. Closing his eyes, Luke pictured images of his nightmare in small shots. The nurse. The uncomfortable seat. The clock.  
  
When Luke felt the humidity hit his chin, he heard the shower calling him. Checking the mirror to justify the shower, Luke decided it was time. Time. The dream flashed back again. The clock. 3:07. Entering the shower, Luke shook his head to break the dream away. His focus now was to clean himself. To start over, and cleanse his mind along with his body. Luke sighed. A meeting with Dr. Yokham was in order.  
  
...  
  
"So, Mr. Corman, you awoke at what time?"  
  
"When I looked at the clock, it was around three."  
  
"And you say the dream was from... from your daughter's-"  
  
"Her death, Doctor. I was in the hospital, and I saw the nurse again. She was telling me about my daughter," Luke repositioned his legs on the red leather couch.  
  
"Do you think these dreams are resurfacing because of-"  
  
"I don't know why they're happening, that's why I came to you!" Luke yelled.  
  
"Calm down, Luke. You should just relax and everything-"  
  
"I don't want to relax. Do I really have to lay here? If I get up are you going to scribble notes about how I don't want to sit here or-"  
  
"You can get up if you want. Now Luke, I want you to listen," Dr. Yokham said, "It has been three years and seven months since your daughters death. I understand that it's hard to get over, I really understand. But you are only hurting yourself by keeping this up. I'm going to give you these pills, and I want you to be taking them nightly, ok?" Luke mumbled a few smart remarks, but was interrupted by the doctor, "I'm serious, Luke. I want these to be gone by next Friday."  
  
Luke nodded, and took the paper after the doctor ripped it from a pad. Luke crinkled the paper and shoved it deep into his coat pocket. Dr. Yokham motioned for him to leave, and Luke turned, heading for the door with his head down.  
  
Outside, Luke Corman made his way to his silver Audi TT, and headed to get his prescription filled.  
  
...  
  
The brass keys jingled as Luke unlocked the deadbolt of his front door. As he began unlocking the bottom lock, Luke's ears interpreted a creaking sound. Freezing his hand and the keys, Luke turned his head sharply to the right and suspiciously eyed surrounding trees. Spotting nothing, he turned around and faced a white picket fence belonging to his neighbor. Shrugging off the issue, Luke entered his house after opening the wooden door.  
  
Luke entered the dining room, and clicked on the chandelier by flipping the switch on the wall. He set his keys, and pills on the table, and after hearing the creaking from outside again, he looked out through the many windows across the table. After heavily blinking his black eyes, Luke turned and headed up the stairs in the hallway. Quickly walking past his daughter's old bedroom, as if to avoid it completely, Luke stepped into his own room, and collapsed on the bed.  
  
Luke sighed deeply, and closed his eyes. After a moment of silence, he realized he could never sleep without the pills. His dream was so vividly real. Almost as if he were reliving the experience at the hospital. As if his daughter had past away a second time. Not wanting to remember Luke shot his eyes open, and immediately returned downstairs to the dining room.  
  
Tossing a few pills in his mouth, Luke closed his eyes, rubbed the back of his neck, and swallowed the two tablets. Luke closed the bottle, and headed back to the stairs. As he reached the bottom step, and looked up, Luke felt like the stairway seemed much taller than before. Dizzily Luke began climbing the mountain before him; each step sapping more and more energy from his tired legs.  
  
When he finally reached the top step, Luke turned right, and slowly headed back to his room. At the beginning, this trip to his bed seemed no different from the other trips made for the past three years. Then Luke stopped. He stopped right in front of his daughter's door. He turned to the left. The door was open. For the first time in three years, it was open. With his eyes open wide, Luke stepped inside and noticed it. Among his daughter's belongings, there it was. The small paper would haunt his memory forever. He looked at it for a long while. And after almost a minute of silence, Luke began screaming. 


	2. Answers

Chapter Two: Answers  
  
Luke Corman slammed on the brakes of his silver Audi TT. Quickly, Luke unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and ran. The cold winter air met his nose and he gulped in deep breaths as sweat dripped from his forehead. After a few minutes of jogging, Luke reached a stairwell, removed his heavy coat, and began climbing.  
  
Continuing his jog, Luke Corman flew past the third floor, clutching his daughter's drawing. The image still burned in his brain. The eyes. The wings. Were they wings? Luke didn't know, and he didn't know if he would have answers even after tonight. He hoped the doctors would know something as he reached the fifth floor of the hospital.  
  
The metal exit door swung open with a creak as if it were begging for WD- 40. Luke paused only to look around for a nurse's station, and once his black eyes saw it, his jog began again. After what seemed to be a marathon, Luke had his daughter's doctor in front of him. Eager for answers, Luke Corman began talking.  
  
"Doctor. My daughter." Luke tried gasping for breath. Finally, he breathed deeply and began again, "My daughter came to this hospital before her death, and-" Luke was interrupted by the doctor lifting his hand.  
  
"Mr. Corman, I remember your daughter's case very well. However, I think we should discuss this in a more private location," the doctor said, motioning with his eyes to several curiously onlooking patients and nurses. Luke nodded, and the doctor led him to a small office behind the nurse's station.  
  
"Doctor, that night... The night my daughter passed away... I was never told how it happened. I guess I was so shocked that I didn't ask, but I wasn't told either."  
  
"Mr. Corman, I withheld that information from you. We didn't want you more disturbed than you already were that night."  
  
"Doctor-" Luke began.  
  
"Call me Rick."  
  
"Rick... I would like to know now. How did my daughter die?" Luke asked. His black eyes locked on the doctor's.  
  
"It's difficult to explain, really. She described-" the doctor began. Rick's eyes moved to the drawing clenched in Luke's white hands. "Mr. Corman, what is that a drawing of?"  
  
"It's something my daughter drew when she was here. It was with her other things you gave back to me. Do you know what it is?" Luke asked extending his arm. Rick clutched the paper, and slowly pulled it out of Luke's hand staring at his black eyes. Finally turning to the drawing, Rick studied it for what seemed like an hour. Rick scratched his chin, his eyes absorbing the picture.  
  
"This," Rick said, looking back at Luke, "is what your daughter said attacked her and her friends that night."  
  
"Wait. What do you mean attacked?" Luke asked unbelieving. Rick shook his head.  
  
"No, not attacked, sorry. She said she saw this in the sky. But she was delusional, Mr. Corman. She wasn't clear on the details. I'm sorry."  
  
"Please explain. What happened to my daughter?" Luke demanded. The doctor shook his head again.  
  
"It's too soon for this, Mr. Corman. You're getting the way you were that night. It's not healthy. I'm sorry, I have to get back to work. I'm going to take this drawing with me. I don't want you reading into these things." Rick said, standing and exiting the office. Luke stood wanting to scream for the doctor to answer more, but the words wouldn't come. Maybe he shouldn't know anymore about his daughter's death. No, he thought again. His curiosity had the better of him now, and it was too late to go back.  
  
Luke quickly followed to doctor out of the office ready to question him again, and ran straight into a fiery haired woman. She looked so familiar to Luke...  
  
"Oh, excuse me. I'm-" Luke paused, recognizing the woman. The nurse from his dream.  
  
"Mr. Corman! Why are you back in the hospital?"  
  
"You're the nurse. You told me about my daughter's death here. I mean, in the waiting room..."  
  
"Yes, I did. Mr. Corman, is everything ok? You look like something's bothering you," the nurse pointed out. Luke nodded, his black eyes meeting the woman's green ones. Her brunette hair curled at her red lips up to her rosy cheeks. Luke felt as if he were back in his dream, and he half- prepared to here about his daughter only having a short amount of time left. "Mr. Corman?" the nurse's soothing voice erased the troubles from his mind, "I need to talk to you, Mr. Corman. It's about your daughter. Could you meet me in the cafe on the second floor tonight?"  
  
Luke nodded. "What time?" he asked, craving more news about his daughter.  
  
"My break is at nine thirty. Is that ok?" Luke nodded again, said bye, and headed back to the stairwell pulling on his coat and leaving the nurse to return to work.  
  
As Luke returned to his Audi TT, he started it, and checked the clock. The green numbers flashed. Eight o' clock at night. Shivering, Luke pressed a button, and waited as the black convertible top folded out and covered him like a shell. Luke turned on the heater, and pulled out of the parking lot. He headed to a Starbucks coffee, realizing how tired he felt. The pills. Doctor Yokham. Suddenly, the meeting from earlier filled his thoughts.  
  
" I understand that it's hard to get over, I really understand. But you are only hurting yourself by keeping this up."  
  
Luke stopped the car, and opened the door. Inside Starbucks, Luke ordered and a minute later he was drinking coffee and letting his mind wander. The warm coffee and cool caramel mixture swam down Luke's throat, soothing him. Anxious to hear what the nurse had to say, Luke sipped his coffee quicker as if to speed up time. Again, Luke had yet another reason to hate this manmade object called time. Checking his watch however, time actually had sped up. His watched read nine fifteen; his coffee only half gone. Luke stood confused, as the store seemed to spin around him, yet stand completely still. Luke gripped his temples and gently rubbed them as he quickly left the store.  
  
Starting his silver car again, Luke turned and headed back to the hospital for a conversation with the nurse.  
  
...  
  
"Hello, Mr. Corman," the nurse said with her soothing voice. Luke had just entered the cafe of the hospital, and was moving through the empty room cautiously. The quiet air made Luke expect something loud to break the silence and he was tense; ready to cover his ears. Finally, Luke reached the table and sat in a seat across from the nurse.  
  
"Hello," Luke quietly muttered. The nurse stared, captivated into Luke's black eyes. Before speaking she shook her head to end her stare. The nurse cleared her throat and began.  
  
"Mr. Corman-"  
  
"Please. Call me Luke."  
  
"Luke," the nurse continued, "Your daughter-"  
  
"Lyndsie," Luke interrupted again.  
  
"Lyndsie," the nurse continued again, "was rushed here nearly four years ago-"  
  
"It will be three years and eight months exactly in two days."  
  
Allison nodded. "Once she arrived," she began, "you were called in. While she was in her room, I would check on her every now and then to see if she was comfortable, and one time she asked me to sit down so she could explain what had happened.  
  
"She started talking monotonously about driving down the road in her car, and then she reached up and gripped my arm, asking for paper. Without letting go, she snatched the paper from me, and scribbled in a black pen something that looked like just a black blob. But then she squeezed my arm tighter and she asked for a red pen. I gave her one, and she started coloring in these two circles and told me they were eyes. Then she lifted herself up, and stared straight into my eyes, still gripping my arm tightly and said, 'this is what came after me.'  
  
"And then she let go. She lied back down, and never said another word to me. Then you got here, and I came to tell you the news, do you remember?"  
  
Luke simply nodded, awaiting more; however, the nurse didn't continue. Luke blinked slowly, still waiting. The nurse opened her red lips, but closed them again, as if she didn't want to go on.  
  
"Ma'am, please continue."  
  
"Call me Allison," she said. Luke nodded, motioning for Allison to continue. She took a deep breath, and let it out. Then she opened her mouth again.  
  
"Lyndsie passed away only four hours later, and the doctor told us not to let you see her-"  
  
"But you told me to talk to her," Luke recalled.  
  
"I know. I was going to let you. I knew it would be hard for someone to lose his or her child without saying goodbye, but the doctor forced us to keep you away. I was going to break the rules, and take you back there, but..." Allison looked up and saw Luke's black eyes pointing down at the floor. She decided to continue with her story, "Mr. Corman," Allison began, "Luke," she corrected herself, "In those four hours, Lyndsie sat in her bed with those pens and drew countless pictures of that thing. Now, I'm not supposed to show you, but rules were made to be broken."  
  
Allison quickly reached to the floor and pulled a small brown box back to the table with her. She opened the box, and picked up a thin piece of paper. Luke's curiosity returned, and he looked up from the floor as Allison slid the paper across the table.  
  
Luke picked it up, and stared at it. He wanted to scream again, but Allison began to talk reminding him of her presence.  
  
"Luke, do you know what that thing is?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," Luke said nodding, "Lyndsie had another drawing similar to this one. It was with her things at home. I..." Luke paused and drew in a breath, "I started to scream when I saw it." Allison nodded.  
  
... 


End file.
